Late Night Mistakes
by CasusFere
Summary: Blades and Slingshot hate each other. But sometimes, things don't work out quite the way you expect them to... Violence, slash.
1. One Mistake

A/N- I blame bittereloquence. Yeah. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

x-xxx-x

"Hey, Slingshot! I heard you finally shot a Decepticon!" Blades called mockingly as the Harrier limped into the otherwise-empty common room. It was sheer rotten luck that of the few 'bots not recharging, this particular Aerialbot would be the one to stumble in for a late-night cube of energon. B_ut hey, I was bored anyway._ "Aw, now I owe Streetwise a cube of high-grade. He said you'd get the guts to join the big boys one day, but I didn't believe him."

"Frag off," Slingshot snarled. "I pull my own. Why don't you go harass that worthless idiot you call a gestalt-mate? If there's anyone here who can't hold his own, it's First Aid."

Blades glared. "What did you call my brother?"

Slingshot glared back. "A worthless twit who doesn't have the courage to hold a weapon without shaking, so he hides behind the warriors and squawks about 'morals' and 'pacifism.' He's a slagging coward, no matter how you try to dress it up to cover for-"

Blades snarled and lunged. "You fragger!" Slingshot staggered under a punch. Blades used the opportunity to jump on him, sending them both crashing to the floor, punching and clawing at anything he could get a handhold on.

Desperate, Slingshot kicked out, catching Blades square in the abdomen, knocking him sprawling. Suddenly, the helicopter found the positions reversed, and now Blades was trying to fend off an enraged Slingshot.

Wrenching Blades' arm around, Slingshot's hand found his rotor assembly, using it to shove Blades face-first into the decking. Despite himself, Blades cried out in shock and pain as Slingshot's fingers bit into his swashplate.

"I'm sorry, was that a _sensitive_ spot?" Slingshot gave him a nasty sort of smile. He rubbed his finger against the hinge. The Protectobot went rigid.

Smirking to himself, Slingshot pressed the advantage, working his fingers into the assembly and ignoring the badly-suppressed noises of protest from the mech under him.

Blades couldn't help the shudder that ran through his frame. The weight on his back shifted, Slingshot leaning into what he was doing. The little slagger is enjoying this! Seething, Blades gathered himself. Slingshot was so intent on trying to wring humiliating noises out of Blades that he'd neglected to keep a tight grip on the fighter's arm.

Twisting hard, Blades threw Slingshot off. The jet tried to scramble up, but Blades was quicker, getting him in a headlock before he could find his feet.

"Think that's funny?" Blades growled. Slingshot tried to pry Blades' arm from around his neck, to no avail. "Turnabout's fair play, Slingsies," Blades said mockingly, running his free hand down the joint where Slingshot's wing met his fuselage. Slingshot shuddered as Blades stroked along the edge of his ailerons, the Harrier's fingers biting into the arm restraining him.

Blades paused as he felt something slick on Slingshot's wing. Fluid was leaking from the gashes he'd inflicted when he first got his hands on Slingshot. Thoughtfully, he bushed his thumb against the torn metal and was rewarded with another shudder.

The position of Slingshot's fuselage and wings meant that Blades had to pull the jet back tight against him in order to keep an arm securely across Slingshot's neck. Experimentally, Blades scraped the edge of his helmet against Slingshot's nosecone.

Slingshot bit back a cry that was only half pain, but a choked moan managed to escape. He felt Blades' answering chuckle more than he heard it, vibrating down the length of his frame. Vaguely, he was aware that he should be trying to fight back, but the why was starting to get fuzzy. Besides, he wasn't sure whether or not he wanted Blades to stop.

For his part, Blades was enjoying the sensation of having the jet pinned under him a bit more than he probably should have. Every time Slingshot squirmed, his armor scraped up the inside of Blades' legs, until it was all Blades could do to not overload on the spot.

And the little _noises_ Slingshot kept making...

Blades' fingers found a new spot, and Slingshot bucked against him, grinding his body against the helicopter's. _Primus..._ It was getting hard to think. Hot energon spilled over his hand as his fingers clenched, digging into one of the ragged gashes he'd left on Slingshot's wings.

_Primus, what am I doing?_ Horrified, Blades let go of Slingshot. Sitting up, he stared down at the energon smeared across the white wings below him with a sinking feeling. "I-" he started to stammer an apology.

Slingshot twisted around, seizing him by a skid and yanking him back down. "You stop now, and I'm going to shoot out both your knees and stake you out in a scrapyard," Slingshot swore, voice rough.

Surprised, Blades ran a hesitant hand up the inside of Slingshot's wing, making him shiver. Encouraged, he let his hands explore, touching and stroking and _scratching_ anything he could reach. Slingshot moaned, writhing under him. The jet pulled him down, hands sliding over his shoulders, catching on a ridge in his armor and sliding down to grip the wheels of his landing gear.

Slingshot arched as Blade found the sensitive spot right along his hip component with one hand, his other working its way up the trailing edge a wing flap. He cried out, his systems overloading.

_Primus, I should have done this ages ago_, was all Blades had time to think before his own systems overloaded.

x-x-x

They came to in a tangle on the floor, cooling systems working to deal with their over-heated engines. For a long moment, neither moved.

Slowly, Blades lifted his head off of Slingshot's chest. Slingshot stared back.

Then they scrambled away from each other.

Slingshot found his feet first, leaning heavily on the wall and staring down at Blades in dawning horror and embarrassment. "We-" He stopped, looking faintly sick.

"This never happened," Blades said flatly. "And if you spill one word, I'll slice off your tail fins and use them as Frisbees."

"Frag that, I've got a reputation," Slingshot snapped back. "One that doesn't include hopped-up whirly-gigs."

Blades didn't have the energy to belt him for the comment, so he settled for a rude gesture as he stalked out.

Slingshot glared at his backside. Glancing down at himself with a sinking feeling, Slingshot cursed. "Slag, how am I going to explain this to Silverbolt?" _No help for it,_ he thought glumly as he limped for the repair bay. _Blades's got it easy; he can just ask his brother for help. But I've got to go to Ratchet. Slagging Protectobots. _And there was no way he was going to be able to hide the fact he'd gotten in another fight with Blades.

_At least that's all they can tell_, he thought, embarrassed.

x-x-x

"I am about sick of dealing with Slingshot," Silverbolt groaned, dropping heavily onto Hot Shot's berth. Being woken up from a sound recharge to go recover his idiot brother from an irate Ratchet had not been his idea of a pleasant way to spend a night.

"I know the feeling," Hot Spot muttered. "This is getting ridiculous. Blades couldn't even give me a reason for it this time, much less a good one. At least he had the decency to look embarrassed."

"I swear, we should just disarm them both and stuff them in a closet to work it out for themselves."

Hot Spot over up at the Aerialbot leader with a thoughtful expression. "That's actually not a bad idea."

Silverbolt smiled tiredly back. "They'd kill each other, even unarmed. But at least we'd have a few breems of quiet."

"Speaking of having time to ourselves," Hot Spot murmured, leaning over Silverbolt. "What do you say we take advantage of _this_ time while we can?"

His smile turning to a full-fledged grin, Silverbolt caught the fire truck and pulled him down to the berth.


	2. Last Chance

_This is just about pleasure,_ Blades told himself, covering the jet's mouth with his own. _It doesn't mean anything. To either of us._

It couldn't mean anything. _Couldn't._ It wasn't about love, or comfort, and it certainly didn't have anything to do with any instinctive feelings of protectiveness that he certainly hadn't felt when Slingshot had walked looking like he wanted to crawl off and sob. It was just lust. He didn't care about the Aerialbot...

And maybe if he said it enough times, he'd believe it.

Slingshot shuddered against him, moaning into his shoulder as Blades' hands slid up his back from the leading edge of his wings to run along his tailplane.

_It doesn't mean anything_, he repeated to himself, even as his rotors shivered under Slingshot's talented fingertips. _Nothing at all._

x-x-x

When did it go from "use Blades to get back at Silverbolt" to "run to Blades whenever he got upset?" Since when was Blades the first person he went to after a fight with his brothers? He wasn't supposed to _care_ about the fragger... it wasn't like Blades would return the sentiment. The only thing the helicopter was interested in was a quick overload and the power it gave him over his mouthy rival.

The thought hurt more than it should have, and Slingshot cursed himself for an idiot.

But he didn't pull away.

x-x-x

_Thank Primus._ Blades stepped quietly into the Protectobot quarters. _Hot Shot's not waiting up. _He knew Hot Spot didn't have the slightest clue about him and Slingshot; he just wasn't in the mood for another lecture.

Something moved in the far end of the common room, and Blades froze for a moment. He relaxed, recognizing Groove.

"Hey, Groove! When'd you get back?" Blades managed a smile for his wayward brother.

"Earlier," Groove said, waving his hand vaguely. His gaze sharpened, looking Blades up and down.

Blades froze up inside again. Hot Spot and the others hadn't guessed his little secret, but Groove had always seen things a little differently than the others.

"You look like you've been in a bit of a scrap," Groove commented finally, and Blades relaxed. "Been tangling with that jet again?"

Blades just grumbled.

Grinning, Groove walked over and clapped him on the shoulder. "Love, man. All you need is love."

_I wish it was that simple, _Blades thought as Groove wandered out.

x-x-x

"Frag, Slings, as often as you come back all scraped up and disheveled, I'm almost starting to think that you two aren't so much fighting as you are-"

Slingshot clenched his fists, turning to glare at his brother. "Finish that sentence. I dare you," he hissed, low and cold.

Air Raid backed off immediately, raising his hands in surrender. "Easy, man, just teasing."

Turning sharply, Slingshot stalked into his room without another word. He waited for the door to slide shut behind him, then collapsed against the wall, thankful that Air Raid hadn't been able to see through him.

It was bad enough that he knew that he was letting Blades use him; he didn't need his brothers to know, too.

x-x-x

"This has to end," Hot Spot said flatly. Blades glared back, head up and expression defiant.

Hot Spot caught the look, and sighed. It was a lecture he'd tried to grind into Blades so many times that the helicopter could probably say it with him.

Suddenly tired, Hot Spot leaned back in his chair. "This _has_ to end, Blades. Before someone ends up dead."

"So?" Blades spoke for the first time.

"He's an _Autobot_, Blades. No matter how much of a little jerk he is, he's still your comrade." Getting no response, Hot Spot sighed. "Since you and Slingshot can't control yourselves, Silverbolt and I have found a solution for you."

Blades went very still.

x-x-x

"Are you suicidal?" Silverbolt demanded, grabbing the Harrier soon as he walked in the door to the Aerialbot quarters and dragging him aside.

Slingshot glared. "Let go of me!" He tried to jerk his arm out of Silverbolt's grip.

Silverbolt kept a tight hold on his brother. "You have to be; you're certainly doing a good job of getting yourself into these sort of situations."

"What the slag are you talking about?"Slingshot demanded harshly.

"You. Blades."

"Yeah, and? Is it any of your business?"

Silverbolt counted to ten. "Yes, it is, Slingshot. Your health and safety is my business, no matter how much you try to compromise both. What the slag were you thinking? Blades is a better fighter than you are, and one of these days he's going to kill you. What were you thinking?"

"Which time?" Slingshot asked coldly.

"Any of them!" Silverbolt finally let go of him, shoving him back in frustration.

Getting no answer but a flat stare, Silverbolt let his shoulders slump. "Fine. But when your brothers are miserable, just remember that it was_ you _who couldn't grow up and act like a civilized mech."

"W-what do you mean?" Slingshot stammered, looking off-balance and worried for the first time.

x-x-x

"The Aerials are being transferred," Hot Shot said flatly.

Blades stared in shock. _Transfered? They can't_... Hot Spot was watching him.

"Is there something you want to tell me?" Hot Spot asked after a moment, surprised by Blades' less than joyful response.

He could tell him, Blades realized. He could spill everything, and make Hot Spot understand...

But that wouldn't change anything. Or worse, it would. Slingshot had undoubtedly heard about the transfer by now, and if Blades were to get Hot Shot to ask the Aerials to stay...

Slingshot would just laugh in his face, and he wasn't sure he could survive that. Either way, he lost Slingshot, but if he kept quiet, he might get to keep at least a semblance of pride.

"Nothing, Hot Spot," he said, and managed to not flinch.

x-x-x

Slingshot just stared at Silverbolt in shock. "We're... we're what?"

"Transferring," Silverbolt repeated. "Leaving. Moving away. Because you and Blades can't keep from trying to kill each other every time I turn my back."

"But..." he started. Silverbolt's look was sharp. Slingshot hesitated... If he came clean and told 'Bolt everything, his brother would understand. Wouldn't he? They could stay...

And Blades would know.

The thought of Blades finding out, of the public humiliation that would follow.. it was just too much.

"When do we leave?" Slingshot asked finally, and hated himself for it.

x-x-x


	3. Leap of Faith

A/N - Thanks and blame to BitterEloquence for the help and motivation. XD

x-x-x

Slingshot stopped, leaning heavily against the wall. _This is a stupid idea.._. The Aerials had been serving a rotation on Cybertron for months, and had jumped at the chance to return to Earth for leave. Or most of them had - Slingshot was just dragged along for the ride. At least, that was what he kept telling himself.

Blades probably didn't even think about him once since he'd been gone..._ I don't care about him. I don't. He doesn't matter to me._

And yet, there he was, spending his leave lurking in the corridor, trying to work up the courage to walk up to Blades' door.

_He's probably not even there. I should just go, before I make more of an ass of myself._

But he didn't move.

x-x-x

It had been obvious to the others that something was wrong the day they left Earth. They'd expected Silverbolt to be irritable, being forced to leave Hot Spot behind because of one of his teammates, and they even expected Slingshot to be defensive over the whole issue

They hadn't expected Slingshot to be _depressed_ over it.

"Isn't he supposed to be happy about not having to deal with Blades?" Fireflight asked finally, watching as Slingshot slunk off after his shift for the third night in a row.

"He likes Cybertron. He's always going on about how we should come back here," Air Raid murmured back. "Is he really that upset that 'Bolt's mad?" They didn't bother following their brother. They knew where he was going – to sit in one of the big windows on the top floor and stare moodily at the sky.

"I think there's more going on than he's let on," Skydive offered, standing next to them. "I think this is more than just Slingshot sulking over Silverbolt being angry. He looks..." He stopped, shaking his head.

"What?" Fireflight asked curiously.

Skydive hesitated. "I... I was going to say that he almost looks... sad."

x-x-x

_Blades, you're an idiot. It's been what, a few weeks? Frag, if Slingshot could see you now..._

"Come on, Blades!" Streetwise tried, following his brother. "It'll be fun! You used to love going out with us! What happened?"

_Slingshot left._ Blades didn't dare say it out loud. _And he's never coming back_. It was stupid, he knew, but he couldn't help but feel that if he admitted it out loud, it'd be real.

"You've been a foul mood all week. What gives?" Streetwise persisted.

Blades finally stopped, turning to glare at his gestalt-mate. "Go. Away."

"Sheesh. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the berth," Streetwise muttered. "I'd almost think you were upset about the Aerial's leaving..."

Something in Blades snapped. "Yes. Slingshot and I have been carrying on an illicit affair for months, and I'm madly in love with his tailfins," he growled.

Streetwise froze for a split second, the laughed. "Oh, that's a good one! For a second there I almost believed you. Except it's so utterly ridiculous," he added hastily as Blades glared.

"Yeah. It is," Blades muttered, turning and walking away.

For a long moment, Streetwise stared after him. There was something in his brother's posture... but the idea of Blades and Slingshot doing anything but try to murder each other was just so far fetched...

Shaking his head, Streetwise put it out of his mind. Blades would come around. He always did.

x-x-x

Blades paced his room, irritated with himself but unable to sit still.

The Aerials were back. Not permanently, but back on leave. Air Raid had already dragged Streetwise off, and Hot Spot had hurried off to meet Silverbolt.

_You're being an idiot, Blades. It's been months. He probably hasn't even thought about you; why would he come running back to you? You're the obsessed idiot, not him._

He'd thought that time would make it hurt less, but it didn't.

_Should have just told him._

He still could – Slingshot had come back with the rest of his team. Hot Spot had even pulled Blades aside to warn him to behave himself.

_If only he knew... _

Slingshot wasn't going to come to him, but he could hunt the Harrier down, and...

_And what, Blades? Watch him laugh, and skip off to spread the story around? If I don't ask, he can't tell me no. It's not like there's a chance, anyway. If he cared, he would have shown up by now._ Venting air in a heavy sigh, Blades slumped down on his berth. The jets would be gone in a few days to serve out the rest of their rotation, and everything would go back to normal. And he could go back to pretending it didn't hurt.

He had almost slipped into recharge when the door chime sounded. At first, he ignored it, intent on wallowing in peace – or at least solitude. He forced himself to roll off the bed at the second chime, slapping the door panel. "What-" He froze, staring at the white Harrier standing on the other side.

Slingshot shifted uncomfortably. For a brief moment, Blades could swear he saw uncertainty and vulnerability in the Harrier's optics. Then it was gone, masked by an all-too-familiar challenging expression.

"Well?" Slingshot demanded roughly.

Blades grabbed him by an arm, yanking him into the room. "Took you long enough," he growled, pulling the Aerialbot close. His hands slid down Slingshot's sides to brush against his wings. For a moment, Slingshot didn't move, and Blades thought that maybe he'd overstepped, but then arms were wrapping around him, clinging tightly.

Taking a beat to gather his courage, Blades turned his head to nuzzle Slingshot's neck. "I missed you," he whispered. _I love you, I can't stand to be away from you, I never want to leave you... _he thought desperately, unable to get the words out.

It was the longest moment in Blades' life.

"Me too," Slingshot murmured back, and somehow Blades knew he'd heard more than Blades had spoken aloud.


End file.
